


Fucked Up

by Lovely Arcade (stubbornsatan)



Category: Big Bang (Band)
Genre: M/M, Mention of suicide attempts, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-30
Updated: 2017-08-30
Packaged: 2018-12-21 19:11:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11950797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stubbornsatan/pseuds/Lovely%20Arcade
Summary: There are many ways to die, he just have to choose one.





	Fucked Up

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LosingInterest](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LosingInterest/gifts).



There are many ways to die.

 

He can swallow down pills; sleeping pills, stupid tablets that help his digestive system, or those ones he had for his headache. He can mix them up, making it the way he likes, _customize_ them the way he wants it to be. Or he can have them with wine then it would be a sweet escape rather than just death. He imagines that his blood would be rushing and calming down at the same time, it makes him laugh.

He can cut his skin, in parts where there’s no tattoo because he wouldn’t want to ruin the artworks. Every tattoo means a lot to him. His tattoos aren’t just marks of his life, but also language of stories he won’t be able to tell anyone. He can see those memories running in his head but his mouth won’t ever be able to speak out loud for the secrets that’s supposed to be hidden and that’s okay too. Nobody wants to hear his horrifying stories anyway.

He can jump off of a cliff. He’s not terrified of heights, he loves being in the up. But isn’t death supposed to be scary? Isn’t it supposed to be not wanted instead of someone’s dream?

He can shot himself. That sounds easy because he’d picked up a gun before. But that would leave a mess on his floor and probably staining his carpet which would ended up being in the internet. It would make the worst headline of all times, _Kwon Jiyong’s matter on his innocent carpet_.

_It’s gross_ , he cringes. And his loving art friends won’t appreciate it.

 

Well, there are some more ways to die.

 

“Hyung?”

_There_ , Jiyong smiles. He hears the footsteps and the faint scent of his cologne, the signs of the way to die he had chosen a long time ago.

“I’m home.”

_Yes, yes you are_ , he smiles even wider and the younger male is looking at him wide-eyed like he always do in his everyday life, expecting scolds, scowls, sarcastic lines, stupid jokes, or sometimes just a pinch on his cheek, anything Jiyong is going to offer him. Jiyong is too tired to give him anything but an appreciative hum that he’s home.

Still, Seungri bounces like it’s an acknowledgement and that’s why he is the way to die Jiyong thinks as perfect.

“Have you eaten, hyung?”

Jiyong chuckles and shakes his head. People can die of starvation but it’s almost impossible for Jiyong. Unless Seungri happens to die before him but Jiyong is pretty sure that he will crawl out from his grave to shove a breadstick or a pour a bowl of his ramen creation in Jiyong’s mouth until there’s no room left for hunger to claim his stomach. Jiyong is a sucker for pain but Seungri is a healer, just one little thing that makes death even more interesting to Jiyong.

There are so many ways to die and Jiyong choose Seungri to be his.

Because Seungri would never let him die, because Seungri would try to save him again and all over again in each and every episode of Jiyong’s pathetic life. Because Seungri would ask the same question every day.

_Do you love me? Do you love me yet?_

Jiyong will never answer to that, of course, or else it will be just a simple way to die. It will scare Seungri away and the game will end, leaving Jiyong to choose an easier way to stop his next breath from coming. That means no fun anymore.

Fun way to die is like _this_. Seungri beside him, resting his head on Jiyong’s shoulder because he needs to feel him close, tv shows playing their favorite sappy drama and Jiyong pretending that he’s not zooming out of his sanity but Seungri knows him too well to let him be on his own.

“I have to go out tomorrow too.”

Fun way to die is like _that_. Waiting for Seungri to come home and never get replies for all texts Jiyong sent, spending his time writing lines of how to punish the maknae and actually spitting out harsh words about those friends Seungri had made outside Jiyong’s circle.

Jiyong curls his fingers on Seungri’s hair and the younger male groans then looks at him. Jiyong dives forward at the same time Seungri’s mouth starts to form a sentence. Those words ended up against his ear as gasps and choked moans.

“ _Hyung_.”

Seungri’s skin is a forbidden fruit and Jiyong has to bite on it because it’s one of the sweetest part of his death. When he pulls back, after sinking his teeth on the younger’s neck, Seungri’s eyes are half-hooded by his eyelashes.

“I want you to look at me,” Jiyong pushes him to lie on his back on the floor. It’s cold, it is how death supposed to be. But Seungri will ruin it, they will ruin it like the other times.

They always ruin death.

“I _can’t_ ,” Seungri struggles to breathe under Jiyong’s touches. “I want to.”

“You can,” Jiyong lifts Seungri’s shirt up and is rewarded with strings of curses when he attaches his lips on the younger’s nipple. “Do it for _me_.”

Seungri puts his hands on Jiyong’s shoulder, trying to hold onto him like he’s afraid that Jiyong might slip away. Jiyong can’t, nobody will ever be able to cheat death.

“How?” Seungri bucks his hips as Jiyong trails down kisses on his chest to his belly button then starts to undo his zipper. “ _Fuck_ , hyung –”

“Can’t,” Jiyong laughs, dragging Seungri’s pants and underwear to his ankles. “We _can’t_ do that.”

Good way to die is shoving his fingers inside Seungri while having his thick cock inside his mouth. It’s _fucking_ good. Seungri is a writhing mess, just the way Jiyong expected it to be.

“Look at me Seungri,” he orders. Seungri moans incoherent words of pleasure and pain from raw thrust but his eyes are clenched shut. It makes Jiyong angry. He releases Seungri’s cock then slides up until his mouth is inch away from Seungri’s and their chest collides against one another. His fingers stay still inside the warm cave of Seungri’s tight walls, waiting for the younger male to calm down and to actually look at him.

Seungri is shaking badly with needs but he does open his eyes and Jiyong sees himself in it, the form of himself he would never see in the mirror with his own two eyes. Seungri always looks at him differently, it triggers Jiyong to have his eyes only for him.

“Good,” Jiyong kisses his lips softly and Seungri melts. He pulls back just enough to be able to see Seungri’s face and his dark shining eyes. When Seungri gulps hard, Jiyong laughs. “Rough start, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Seungri strokes his cheeks and Jiyong leans to the touch, purring like a satisfied kitten.

Jiyong pulls his fingers out and puts them inside his mouth, coating the digits until they’re properly wet and ready. Under him, Seungri’s eyes are following the movements. It drives Jiyong insane, being watched by the death. It calms him down too, knowing that death is looking forward to him.

Just like he always does, praying for it to come closer.

Seungri lets out a shaky breath as Jiyong pushes his fingers back in, slowly moving in and out. He keeps his eyes on Jiyong, gripping and leaving bruises on Jiyong’s shoulder. The pace gets faster and faster, it makes Seungri’s head spin like he’s in a stupid roller coaster.

“ _Jiyong_ ,” he stutters to say. “Please.”

“Faster?”

“ _Fuck_ , yes, harder – _Ahn!!_ ”

“Are you going to close your eyes?” Jiyong licks Seungri’s neck lazily and curls his fingers, making the younger male screams in ecstasy. His own erection is threatening to explode but not before Seungri, never before Seungri.

“ _Ahhnn!!!_ I –I can’t – _Hyung!_ ”

Jiyong bites his shoulder and shoves his fingers as deep as he can. Seungri bucks under him, exploded like stars all over Jiyong’s clothed stomach. He reaches for Seungri’s cock, massaging and milking him gently as the maknae rides his orgasm.

Seungri recovers fast, just as fast as he would heal Jiyong from every scar. He reaches out to undo Jiyong’s pants but Jiyong doesn’t let him, he never did.

“Good night,” Jiyong steadies himself on his feet then goes to the balcony for cigarettes. He lets himself suffer from denying orgasm, puffing out smoke after smoke until Seungri’s presence is gone from the living room.

 

And this is the best way to die.

 

It’s not a broken heart, Jiyong doesn’t have a heart. He used to, before fame crashed on him and he’s left with nothing but it, with expectations and glory and emptiness and left of friends. It’s not in silence because the world, Jiyong’s world, will always be too loud and so full of crowd that it’s impossible for anyone to hear his scream. He won’t die in his sleep, he doesn’t have anything to dream about.

He will die in Seungri’s arms, in those warm heart and gaze and stubborn touches, in the amount of love he provides Jiyong with. He wants to die in Seungri’s trust and hopes, in his determination that he could make Jiyong _live_. He chooses to die by those unspoken three words, dangling from Seungri’s mouth all the time but never been allowed to be said out loud by Jiyong.

The best way to die is to pretend that he doesn’t need Seungri as much as the younger needs him. The best way to die is to play a game of push and pull until one of them snap, and it’s always Seungri and Jiyong knows how to fix Seungri as much as he is an expert in breaking the man. The best way to die is to live his life until he can’t take it anymore, hoping by that time, Seungri can’t heal those scars scarring him from his own thoughts. There are a lot of hell in Jiyong’s life but Seungri happen to be his purgatory, where he lives his sin day by day, suffering the pain and hoping for heavens after his death.

 

Jiyong’s best way to die is to live with Seungri.


End file.
